The card that stands out to me is the last one—it’s a heart with three swords through it. “That doesn’t look so good,” I tell her.
“They’ll tell you what’s in your subconscious. Our thoughts are not always positive, but they are always changeable. That’s one reason for reading cards, to bring out thoughts that we aren’t always aware of, and then we have an opportunity for change.”
“Well then, what about the first card, the past card? That can’t be changed,” I challenge.
“No, of course we can’t change the past, but we can change our perception of the past and how we let it affect our future.”
“Ok.”
“So, this is the last card, it’s the final outcome. That is, the final outcome if all things stay the same. So it can be changed if you change.”
“So, that one is like a warning?”
“Yes.” She lays down a fourth card, face down.
“Let’s look at what we have. The cards have meanings individually, but when you see them together, they tell a story. All we have to do is read and interpret it.”
“What’s my story?” I believe in this no more than I did before we began, but I’m curious.
“In your past we have the Knight of Swords. The knights are messengers and swords indicate troubles. In your present we have The Hermit, but he’s reversed, so while he usually means knowledge that’s learned through self-teachings and solitude, like a monk, here it means the opposite. And in your future, remember, this is your possible future if all things stay the same, we have the Three of Swords, which shows a love triangle, and heartbreak that you have created.”
“Nice,” I say.
She ignores my sarcastic remark and appears to be in deep thought.
“Ok,” she says after a long pause. “You’ve received bad news from a carrier; that was your father’s death, and a representative for him brought that news to you. You have the potential for great knowledge and you are bright, but you don’t trust your intuition. You will find love, but either that person loves someone else, or you do. Obviously, a choice between two lovers causes pain and one, two, or all three of you will be heartbroken. The storm clouds and rain behind you represent the difficult choice to be made, but remember that after a storm comes sunshine.”
I sigh. I don’t think I want to play this card game anymore.
“Do you not want to go on?”
“Are you a mind reader too?”
“No, I have two eyes and I see that you look unhappy. Not to mention the big, heavy sigh you just let out.”
“Oh. No, it’s fine. Go on.”
“Ok, well, just remember that you don’t really believe in this anyway, so just think of it as a card game.”
I look at her in disbelief. Card game?
She flips the last card. It looks horrible. It’s a person sitting up in bed with their hands covering their face. I can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman, but I guess it doesn’t matter. It’s obviously me. On the wall above this person, above me, is a row of swords. I feel as though I’ve just been stabbed with one of those swords.
“Hm…” she says.
“What?” I nearly shout at her.
“The Nine of Swords. Remember, it’s just a possible outcome if all things stay the same. It’s interesting that you have three swords in your reading with only four cards. But, I know you’re…”
“Troubled?” I finish for her.
“I don’t mean it the way it sounds. See, your past and future contain swords, which are signs of trouble, but your present is showing your need to trust yourself in order to gain knowledge. So, with that in consideration, it makes sense that your outcome card would be a sword.”
“Ok, well, what does it mean? Sleepless nights, nightmares, what?”
“Pretty much, yes. But it’s also the realization of your troubles, and that’s the beginning of changing them.”
“Changing them? The only way I can change them is to bring my father back. Is how to do that in your cards?”
“No. But do you mean to tell me that before he died, you had a perfect life?”
Her question makes me angry, but I know she’s right. “No.”
“Look.” She gestures at the Nine of Swords card. “The way the points are not shown on the swords shows indecision or lack of direction. I know you just had your life turned upside down, so of course you have lack of direction—or actually, a change of direction. And now you need to figure out where you’re going. And that’s troublesome, right?”
I nod.
“Well, your outcome can change, Raina. Give yourself time. But also, think about where you’re going. I didn’t know your dad, I wish I had, but I’m sure he would want you to continue on and not stay…sad.”
There’s a moment of silence between us. I feel anger rising in me, and once again it’s directed at my mother. It’s her fault Ellie didn’t know my dad. He was her uncle, after all. He would have liked her. My anger begins to give way to watery eyes when Ellie speaks again.
“There’s something else…” she begins.
Oh, God, what now?
“Your past and the outcome cards are both nines, and that’s a sign of wisdom. That, along with The Hermit card, says to me that you are smart. The fact that The Hermit is reversed just means that you don’t know your own abilities yet. Just be patient with yourself and give it time, and don’t give up.”
“Ellie, I don’t see how anything in these cards can change. I can’t bring my father back. I thought he’d come back to see me in my dreams, but they’ve turned into nightmares. I can’t change the past. I can’t even change the way I think of the past. His death is wrong, it’s awful, and I hate that he died. I can’t change the way I feel about it. It’ll never be ok.”
“Maybe he is communicating with you in your nightmares. Maybe his transformation is a warning, or…”
My tears fall on the quilt, watering those tiny flowers. She has seen them. Even though I’ve kept quiet, she’s seen me crying.
She scoops up the cards, wraps them in their fabric, and shoves them in her purse. “I’m sorry, Raina. I’m so sorry.”
I let her hug me for a moment, and then I pull away. I don’t want to cry.
“It’s ok. Really, I’m fine. I don’t believe in this anyway,” I remind her as I’m reminding myself. Although, it feels more like I’m trying to convince myself rather than just a reminder.
“That’s right. You’ll be fine. I’m not worried about you.”
“Ok, good.”
“I have to get to work,” Ellie says.
“Yes, of course. Mom texted me and said she’d be home for dinner. I’ll walk you out.”
“Ok, I just want to tell Grandpa goodbye on my way out.”
We find him in the kitchen, just standing and staring at the counter. Ellie says, “What’s wrong, Grandpa?”
“I left it right here,” he says, shaking his finger at the counter.
“What?” she says.
“Um.” He turns and looks at her, and then at me. “My book, I set it right here.” He continues to look at me, and there’s something in his eyes. He remembers me. “Raina Rae,” he says.
“My dad called me that too,” I say.
And then the moment is gone. The spark leaves his eyes and he says to me, “Did you take my book?”
My heart returns to its resting position. “No,” I say.
I hear the front door open; it’s my mother. I round the corner and give her a big hug. “Mom, he remembered me,” I tell her before she can get past the foyer. “Just for a few seconds, but that’s something, right?”
“Of course he remembers you,” she says. “Hello, Ellie.”
I feel Ellie next to me. She says, “I have to go. Bye, Raina, bye, Aunt Rachel.” And with a quick hug, she’s gone.
“Glad to see you two are getting on well,” Mom says.
Grandpa has made his way back to his seat at the table. Mom says to him, “Hi, Dad, how are you doing
today?”
“Rachel?” he says.
“Yes, Dad,” she replies.
“I want to read but I can’t find my glasses. Do you know where they are?”
“You’re wearing them,” she says. She looks back at me and smiles like it’s funny. I don’t understand how she can be so casual about his condition. How everyone can be so casual about it; he obviously needs help. Am I the only one who sees this?
I think he’ll be looking for his book again next, but he picks up a new section of the paper and begins to read.
“So, you and your grandfather have been getting along well. That’s nice, sweetie,” she says.
“I guess,” I say.
“Well, I’d like to take you out to dinner. I know I haven’t been home much since we got here so I want to have dinner with you.”
“What about him?” I say. “I’m pretty sure he won’t want to go, and I don’t know if we should take him anyway.”
“No, he won’t want to go, he’s fine here.” She looks at him and pats him on the back like a child. “You’re fine, right?”
“I wish you kids would leave me be. I work all day and when I come home, I just want to relax.” He makes a show of turning the page.
“See, same ole’ Dad, doesn’t want to go. Let’s go get ready, it’ll be fun!”
She smiles at me and I see my mom again, the one that disappeared the day the airmen knocked on our door. She’s happy.
I return her smile. “Yes, let’s go.”
We’re back in the SUV that we drove from Nebraska, which feels like so long ago now. It looks cleaned up since I last saw it. “So where do you want to go?” I say.
“I have a surprise for you.”
The words sound good, but her tone of voice makes me suspicious. “What?”
“Kyle has invited us to his house for dinner!” she says.
I am speechless.
“He lives in a nice house in the Garden District, you’ll love it! And he has two kids, a son and daughter. You’ll love them, too—they’re so cute!”
Why is this happening to me, and what is happening to my mom? We stop at a light. I look out at the businesses that line this street that I’ve never seen before. Everything is strange. Maybe I’m dreaming. I close my eyes tight and hope I’ll wake up.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Mom prods.
I open my eyes to see my stark reality; I’m here to stay. “That’s great, Mom.” There’s no point in arguing.
Kyle’s house is in the middle of a huge yard. The grass is so green and thick that I want to kick off my shoes and walk barefoot through it. There’s a long, horseshoe-shaped driveway, but no cars are outside. Mom parks in front of the garage and the door opens to reveal a sports car and a pickup truck. The garage itself is spotless. A man walks around the side of the truck and steps out to greet my mother with open arms.
“Glad you made it,” he says to her. “And this must be your daughter, Raina.”
“Yes,” she says. “Come around here, sweetie.” Her voice is higher pitched than usual.
“Hi,” I say. I think I’m smiling, but it’s hard to tell; I feel a little numb.
The house is just as beautiful inside as it is outside. The floors are light wood and the walls are white. The furniture looks expensive, nicer than we’ve ever had.
“This is Haley, my daughter. Haley, this is Raina,” Kyle says. She’s a cute little girl with blonde hair that’s cut in a bob above her shoulders.
Haley smiles up at me and says, “I’m seven. How old are you, Raina?”
“Older,” I say. I don’t want to hurt her feelings, I’m just not in the mood for little girls games.
“Now, Haley,” Kyle says. “You know it’s not polite to ask a lady her age.”
Haley says, “She doesn’t look like a lady to me.” She scrunches up her nose at me and then runs out of the room.
“Sorry, Raina. Her mother moved to Texas not too long ago, and Haley is having a difficult time adjusting to life without her,” Kyle says.
“No I’m not!” we hear from the other room.
“Sorry, princess,” Kyle says. My mother stands by his side, shifting her weight from one foot to another.
“It’s not nice to talk about people when they’re not in the room!” Haley says, from the safety of theother room.
I wonder how long this back and forth can go on, but Kyle just looks at me and laughs it off. He shows me to the living room and I see cartoons on the TV. A little boy lies on the floor with his feet up on the wall underneath the TV.
“This is Tristan,” Kyle says. Tristan makes no effort to move.
“Tristan, we have guests. Please say hi.”
“Hi,” he says, without turning around.
“He’s four so we just let him watch TV and play.” Kyle looks to my mother as if for approval. She nods and smiles at me.
“Well, Anna made us a fantastic dinner of burgers and fries, a meal fit for a king and his family.”
“Burgers and fries?” I say.
“Yes, it’s the kids’ favorite,” Kyle says. “Don’t you like them?”
“Sure,” I say. I thought they’d have something fancy, like I’ve seen TV chefs make.
Mom smiles at him and they share a brief kiss.
I can hardly stand it. “Really? It’s been like, two days.”
“Oh, Raina, don’t be a drama queen. It’s been longer than that, and it’s been long enough.” She has that look that says she’s about to go off on me, but she looks at him and composes herself. “I know it must feel too soon to you, darling,” my mother says to me in her high voice. “But Kyle and I have known each other for years. It’s very natural for us.”
“That’s right,” he says. “Your father was a good man, I know. But it broke my heart when Rachel left New Orleans; it was never the same for me. I’ve learned my lesson. I won’t lose her again.” And once again they kiss.
I may be sick if they keep this up. And who does he think he is talking about my father? I say, “Well, it’s new to me, so if we could all just slow down, that would be cool.”
“Of course,” he says. He drops his arm from around her waist. “We wouldn’t want to be uncool.” He looks like he’s trying to talk to me with his eyes.
“I get what you’re saying. You don’t have to try so hard,” I say.
“Raina!” my mother says. “You apologize right now.”
“Dinner is ready!” I hear a woman’s voice. I look over to see her; that must be Anna setting food on the table.
“Let’s start fresh over dinner, shall we?” Kyle says, and ushers Mom into the other room.
Before she turns away I give her my best, ‘you-can’t-make-me’ look. I feel childish, but hey, I’ll fit right in with his kids.
I’m so glad when the evening ends. Tristan refused to eat anything but hamburger buns with ketchup. Haley would take a big bite of her food and then talk with her mouth open—no matter how many times Kyle told her it was rude. I didn’t say much, but I thought the dinner Anna prepared was good. She filled the table with food, and then disappeared behind the kitchen door and didn’t come back out until it was time to clean up. Which is too bad, because compared to everyone else at the table, she seemed like the one I’d rather sit and have a meal with.
***
I remember the state of mind Grandpa was in when we left, and I breathe a sigh of relief when I see him sitting at the table, reading and drinking coffee. I walk over to him and give him a side hug, made awkward by the fact he doesn’t return my show of affection.
He looks up at me and says, “Where have you been?”
“I had dinner with Mom and her new—” I stop to think if it would upset him to bring up Kyle. I don’t know how to recover from my abrupt halt mid-sentence. “Um…”
“I ate without you,” he says. He seems to not notice anything wrong. I think he knows it’s me, but it’s hard to tell. He returns to his paper. “Too much crime in this
city.”
“Yes, Grandpa, I agree,” I say. I don’t know anything about the crime rates here, but as much of the daily news he reads in the paper, I feel it’s safe to agree with his opinion on the matter.
“These politicians don’t know anything about how to run this city.”
“Did you ever think about being a politician?”
He sets his paper down and leans back in his chair. He looks as if he’s about to launch into an acceptance speech that he never had a reason to give.
“I didn’t have time for that; I had to go to work. Who was going to pay for the groceries and bills around here? Your mother? Hmph. You and your brother are expensive, you know.”
“Yes, I know.” I’ll never get to know who he is when he doesn’t know who I am.
He folds up the section he was reading and searches for a new one. From the looks of it, all the sections have been opened and refolded.
I watch him as he takes each section and looks at it with apparent recognition that he’s already read it, then he makes a neat stack of them. He pushes his seat back from the table, stands up, and takes the paper to the recycling basket. I remain seated, staring at the empty table as he heads down the hallway. He calls back, “Are you just going to sit there?”
“Just for a few minutes.”
He shakes his head and turns his back to me.
~ 6 ~
The sunshine wakes me up and I feel as though I didn’t get enough sleep last night. I need some of that chicory coffee they have at Café du Monde. I’ll settle for whatever Grandpa drinks.
He’s up early, as usual. I say, “Good morning.”
He nods.
The coffee is strong enough to wake me up just by the smell. I pour it into a cup and add sugar and ice cubes. I sit at the table and pick up a random section of the paper. It’s the Homes section. “Great,” I say, without expecting a response.
He folds his section and says, “Raina? Is that you?”
I can barely contain my excitement. “Yes, it’s me!”
“Well, I’ve been waiting for you. Jacob said you and your mother would be here. What took you so long?”
“Traffic. You know, we drove from Nebraska.”
“Nebraska? Lincoln, Nebraska? That’s where that David is from,” he says with a scoff.
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